


so go

by SoloChaos



Series: go go go (one of us) [11]
Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, Scars, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1842706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloChaos/pseuds/SoloChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part XI</p>
            </blockquote>





	so go

**Author's Note:**

> Has everyone got her, his, or otherwise's hat?

Okay.

All right.

He can do this.

Josh finds Tyler sprawled out in front of Josh's TV.

"Hey, can I talk to you?" Josh says, and Tyler sits up, pausing the TV.

"What's up?" he asks.

"I have, um," Josh tugs at the hem of his shirt nervously, "something to tell you."

"What is it?" Tyler asks, going over to take Josh's hand in his.

"I, uh," Josh nervously scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. "I'm- I'm a shark."

Tyler blinks. "Like, a loan shark?"

"What? No," Josh says. "I mean, I'm actually a shark. Part shark."

Tyler smiles awkwardly at Josh. "What are you- are you joking?"

"No, no," Josh says, shaking his hand free of Tyler's. "Remember those two long scars on my back?"

"...yeah."

"They were fins," Josh says, fiddling with the hem of his shirt again. "I had them removed."

Tyler takes a step forward. "Josh, are you feeling-"

"Just- just look."

Josh slowly pulls off his shirt. He hears Tyler's gasps as more and more bite-mark scars become visible, but he know the instant Tyler sees them.

"Oh."

Josh throws his shirt to the ground, his body, especially gills, feeling cold.

"...oh, my gosh," Tyler says, slowly backing away from Josh. "Oh my gosh."

"Tyler, please," Josh says, taking a step closer, but Tyler scrambles back.

"Stay away from me!" Tyler yelps, fumbling for the doorknob of Josh's front door. "Stay back!"

"Tyler, I'm not going to hurt you, please just listen to me," Josh begs.

"You- you _freak,"_ Tyler hisses, and Josh feels his stomach drop to somewhere around his knees.

"I'm sorry," Josh apologizes fruitlessly. "I'm sorry, Tyler, but please-"

"Freak!" Tyler fires, opening the door without turning his back on Josh. "Monster!"

Josh bites his lip, trying not to cry. "Tyler..."

"Hideous," Tyler snarls, eyes flickering down to Josh's gills. "You _monster."_

Josh swallows hard.

"Good _bye_ , Josh," Tyler snaps, stepping outside and slamming the door shut behind him.

Josh can't quite breathe.

He turns to the bathroom, where the door is open and his reflection in the mirror. He's standing there shirtless, five gills on each side of his neck easily visible. His vision flickers up, and his dark, artificially brown eyes meet with his reflection's gaze.

Before he can even think about it, he's surging forward and punching the mirror as hard as he can.

The mirror shatters.

Josh's hands find his neck, feeling the sensitive ridges of his gills. _Monster._

With a shriek, Josh is barreling into the kitchen and fumbling for the silverware drawer. He yanks it open and pulls out the sharpest knife he owns. Without even hesitating, Josh brings the knife up to his neck.

He doesn't even wince when he digs the knife deep into the skin right above his gills on his right side. He's vaguely aware of warm blood spilling out and running down his skin, but he doesn't pay attention to it.

It doesn't matter.

Josh forces the knife further down into his neck. He can feel the faint stirrings of pain, but he ignores them.

He's panting, and he's crying, he realizes. He pulls the knife out, and he feels blood rush out of his neck, and he suddenly feels a little dizzy.

_He doesn't want to die._

Josh shoves his blood-free hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He hits Patrick's number.

It's five rings in when Patrick finally picks up.

"Josh, I'm kind of busy. This better be import-" He cuts himself off when he realizes he can hear Josh crying. "What's wrong?"

"I- I n-need your help," Josh stutters out. It's getting harder for him to focus. "Please. I don't w-want to die."

**Author's Note:**

> Now excuse me while I find a rock to hide under for the next couple centuries or so.


End file.
